


Shoop (you’re packed and you’re stacked ‘specially in the back)

by fairophelia



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Butts, Comeplay, Excessive use of pet names, M/M, Minor Angst, Pat's really into calling Jonny baby idk, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, this is mostly an excuse for porn folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairophelia/pseuds/fairophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pat’s confused, and momentarily stupefied by his dick, until he looks over at Jonny again, now sitting in his stall, looks down to where his thick thighs are on display as he sits with his legs thrown indecently far apart, making Pat’s dick start to ache, and he thinks to himself <i>oh, fuck.</i></p><p>Or: Pat’s existence is a trial in suffering and awkward boners because of Jonny’s everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoop (you’re packed and you’re stacked ‘specially in the back)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really nervous about posting this fic and have been for a couple of months now! This is the first time I've written fic in about three years and my first ever foray into RPF, but I decided to make the leap and post it. I completely blame Jonny and hockey for taking over my life. For the sake of the fic neither Jonny or Pat have girlfriends. 
> 
> This hasn't been beta read and my brain is a bit fuzzy from rereading it so many times so excuse any typos I've missed! 
> 
> Title from [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vaN01VLYSQ)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

If Pat’s being honest, he’s never considered himself much of an ass man. 

If he’s being even more honest, he’s also always known Jonny’s hot in an objective kind of way. Just like he knows the sky is blue, the grass is green, and yes, thank you, he knows his hairline is receding, fuck off. Some things in life just have simple answers, and as a dude who more than incidentally is into other dudes, recognising Jonny’s hotness is a given. 

So that doesn’t really explain why when Jonny walks past him one afternoon in the locker room, sweaty and flushed from practice, stripped down to his briefs and idly scratching at his taught stomach, that Pat’s dick decides to get the memo and twitch into life as he stares after the heavy swell of Jonny’s ass. 

Pat’s confused, and momentarily stupefied by his dick, until he looks over at Jonny again, now sitting in his stall, looks down to where his thick thighs are on display as he sits with his legs thrown indecently far apart, making Pat’s dick start to ache, and he thinks to himself _oh, fuck._

Things kind of spiral out of control from there. 

*

Pat starts to covertly sneak glances at Jonny in the locker room. He convinces himself it had to be a one off; his dick was having a weird day, okay. Jonny’s his best friend and his captain, and Pat definitely isn’t secretly pining after him. 

So, Pat’s sweaty, and smells kind of gross, but he hangs around in the hopes of getting teasing glimpses of Jonny’s body as he strips out of his clothes, so sure that he’ll prove himself right and have no reaction. 

_You’re a massive fucking creep,_ the rational part of his mind tells him. 

If Pat had more self-control he’d agree, but any guilty part of him quiets down as the thick curve of Jonny’s ass comes into view as he strips out of his underarmor. 

Pat’s mouth hangs open as Jonny bends over, his thighs thickening and looking obscene. He knows he’s staring, but fuck, Jonny’s ass is indecent, sticking out proud and on display, and Pat wants to walk over, drop to his knees, and tear Jonny apart with his mouth. He imagines spreading those fat cheeks, pressing his face in, struggling for breath, opening his mouth and -

A cough tears him from his thoughts and he looks to his left. Duncs is staring at him, one eyebrow raised and looking back and forth between Pat and Jonny in confusion. 

Pat flushes a deep red, tries to cover his rapidly growing dick, and focuses back on unlacing his skates.

*

Okay, so Pat has a problem. 

He figures all he has to do is expose himself to Jonny more. Get used to the sight of his body, once so taken for granted, but now ever present in Pat’s mind. He just has to get over the sight of Jonny’s thick thighs, leading up to the thickness of his cock and the heaviness of his balls, not focus on the sharp v of Jonny’s groin, or the definition of his abs and - 

Right, _not_ helping. 

The next night, coming off a win, the locker room’s filled with adrenaline and happy bantering, and Pat figures he’ll take another shot at talking his dick out of its pavlovian response to Jonny. Pat picks a shower stall and turns the water on, letting the hot rush of it soothe over his sore muscles. 

Pat’s body is exhausted but his mind is still strung out, confused and keyed up whenever he sees Jonny. He’s not sure how or why this is happening, why after so many years his feelings for Jonny are changing, or just coming out, or not being repressed for some reason that leaves him whirring. His thoughts are fucked up and racing, so obsessed with the idea of _Jonny, Jonny, Jonny,_ wanting to consume and wring dark cries from his throat. Part of him is still sure, still so convinced that it’s a fluke, that this veil of lust and _want_ attached to Jonny will clear and leave him feeling right in his place in the world again. 

Pat’s determined to give one last attempt at forcing Jonny from his mind. Standing in the shower, slumped over and listening half-heartedly to the sounds of his teammates showering alongside him, he steels himself to try again. 

Scrubbing at his torso Pat forcibly reminds himself that hockey players, being one himself, are _gross_. Jonny's a hockey player, one of the best, with the same routines and propensity towards nasty habits as the rest. 

So, Pat figures he needs to convince his dick of that, needs to see Jonny away from the thick teasing spread of his thighs, and see him normal and sweaty and completely lacking in sex appeal. 

He raises his head, blinks the water out of his eyes, and examines his teammates quickly. With a rush of vicious satisfaction he’s hit with the usual gust of amusement and vaguely grossed out feelings towards them. They stand around, hairy burly men, washing and flinging water about, casually chatting and washing their bodies. 

He feels convinced, so sure that seeing Jonny in _this_ environment will kill the last of his dick’s fucked up obsession. 

So he looks over at Jonny and – he’s definitely kind of gross too, actually. 

He’s fondling his cock and balls while his other hand reaches back, dipping into the crack of his ass and washing at the space there. He’s not conscious of anyone watching him, just showering and removing the sweaty traces of a hard game from his skin. 

It really shouldn’t be hot, because Jonny’s not doing anything any of the other guys aren’t, and objectively it’s really not. But Jonny’s touching his body so casually, so carefree, running his hands in the most unsexy way possible through all the places Pat wants to lick and bite and _fuck_ and never leave. Jonny’s just standing under the stream of hot water, rivets swimming down the planes of his sculpted body. Pat watches open mouthed as some of the water pools in the dip of his lower back, the thick curve of his Jonny’s ass jutting out just beneath to catch it. 

Pat’s dick, already chubbing up against his thigh, gives a pleasurable twitch. 

He looks down at his cock in betrayal and turns the water of his shower ice cold. He faces the other way, wills the image of getting down on his knees and swallowing Jonny’s cock from his head, and tries not to think. 

*

A few nights later they’re out for dinner at some new French place Jonny found. He'd excitedly called Kaner earlier that day, raving about the dairy free, gluten free, fun free food they serve, and had convinced him to come along and force some down his throat. Seabs had decided to tag along, dragging Panarin with him in an effort to get him out of his apartment. 

Objectively, the dinner is fine. The food’s too healthy but passable, and his teammates are good company as usual, swapping jokes and easy banter amidst overly large bites. 

Pat should be fine with it, should really just be enjoying the meal, but because this is apparently now his life, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it was just him and Jonny. He imagines them out to dinner, some stupidly romantic setup made for them to celebrate a win, or an anniversary, or him just taking Jonny out because he _wants_ to. He can imagine Jonny’s dark eyes watching intensely, the small smiles they’d share and the way they’d swap teasing spoonfuls of dessert, the small flicks of Jonny’s tongue promising so much more later on. 

“-right, Kaner?” Jonny’s voice breaks him out of the fantasy, and he looks at his face quickly, sees a playful grin, and knows Jonny’s chirping someone and wants Kaner’s support. 

“Yeah,” he smiles back helplessly, no idea what Jonny’s talking about. 

Jonny beams back at him, and Pat’s heart freezes in his chest.

Jonny moves on, handsome face looking sincere as he and Artemi try and a navigate a conversation with minimal English, but Pat is still frozen, staring at Jonny with his mouth hanging open slightly. His chest feels constricted and tight, and his heart speeds up as he stares, captivated by the sight of Jonny, watching as the corners of his mouth stretch up and his stupid, beautiful face creases with amusement. 

He thinks to himself, not for the first time, _oh, fuck._

*

Naturally, Pat tries to pick up. 

If he can’t have Jonny, and fuck he _aches_ at the thought of it, he’ll just have to settle for fucking him out of his system. Jonny’s not the only person in existence with a nice ass, right? 

He takes home girls and sometimes guys. He gets off, and has the same lacklustre orgasms over and over again. 

One night he goes back to a girl’s apartment, slightly drunk and not entirely present, and sits on her worn couch, staring at the ceiling as she kneels in front of him and swallows his cock. It feels good because _duh_ his dick is in someone’s mouth, and she’s a pretty little thing with loose waves of blonde hair and big tits. 

He closes his eyes and comes into the wet suction of the girl’s mouth, filling the condom wrapped around his dick. He pretends it’s her that pushes him over the edge, and not the image of Jonny taking Pat’s cock into his mouth, dark eyes staring up at him, the upraised skin of the scar on his top lip dragging against the length of his bare cock. 

He thanks her (Lisa? Lauren?), returns the favour, and goes home.

That night, Pat dreams of lazily kissing Jonny, holding him down and slowly taking him apart with his tongue. In the dream he and Jonny are rocking together, bodies moving in slow, teasing glides, and Pat whimpers out the word “baby” into the wet heat of Jonny’s mouth as they come. 

He wakes up hard and frustrated. Pat pulls the covers over his head and purposefully ignores his pulsing cock, before forcing himself to go back to sleep. 

*

Pat thinks he’s managing okay. He half convinces himself that jerking off to thoughts of fucking his best friend and teammate are completely normal, and definitely not something he needs to think about or deal with. 

He’ll get over it. 

Then, a week later, they’re out for drinks at a bar after a near loss. Pat's strung out and restless, happy with the win, but on edge. It was too close, and he could have worked harder, made the win something to be prouder of - and Jesus, he's turning into Jonny.

Thinking his name seems to conjure him out of thin air, appearing at the side of the booth Pat's squeezed himself into, idly laughing and staring as Panarin downs shots of vodka. Pat winces in sympathy at the hangover he's going to have in the morning.

“You good, Kaner?” Jonny asks.

Pat looks up at him, quickly takes in Jonny’s appearance, and abruptly wants to say no. He's just standing there, completely oblivious to how devastating he looks. Jonny's thighs are encased in jeans and they strain against the fabric slightly. His arms are corded and strong with muscle, his abs slightly visible through the thin fabric of his v-neck. Pat wants to rip his clothes off and lick every part of that thick body he can reach, and he feels like he’s going slightly mad with how quickly one glance at Jonny can rile him up. So no, he's very much _not_ fine, and if Jonny could stop having a stupidly perfect everything for five minutes he'd appreciate it and get on with his life.

Instead, he lifts his beer in a mock toast and grins lazily. “‘Course I am.”

Jonny's shark eyes pin him, narrowing slightly as if he doesn't quite believe Pat. Thankfully he shakes it off, hands Pat a fresh beer, and slides into the booth next to him, a thick line of heat pressed into his side.

Pat takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment, moving his thigh slightly closer to Jonny's under the guise of shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Their thighs press together and Pat bites his lips, so starved and into everything about Jonny that one simple touch feels overwhelming. _Fuck._

He picks up his beer, downs the slightly warm remains of it, and looks steadfastly ahead.

Jonny doesn't move his leg away from his for the rest of the night. 

*

Pat’s on the phone to Sharpy, spread out across his bed, phone held lazily against his ear as he zones out, half listening as Sharpy croons on about Abby and the girls. 

“Kaner, Kaner – you’re not even listening to me!” He can practically see Sharpy’s pout. 

Kaner smiles. Losing Sharpy still stings. It’s like an ever present bruise, sometimes forgotten but then dealt a swift dull kick, viciously coming back to life in brief moments, going to search for him and realising he isn’t there. Or moments like now, where he imagines the teasing smile on Sharpy’s handsome face as he whines at Pat. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just distracted," he says. 

“Hmm, by what?” Sharpy teases. 

If Pat’s life made any sense anymore he’d play along, joke with Sharpy and conjure up some non-existent girl to throw him off the trail of his Big Gay obsession with Jonny. 

“I’m kind of stupidly into Jonny,” breaks out of him instead.

The other end of the line goes abruptly quiet. 

Pat silently begins freaking out to himself, and just before he contemplates going on his balcony and throwing himself, his phone, or both off the edge, Sharpy breaks in with, “So, you’ve finally figured that out, huh?” 

Which _what._ Pat says as much. 

Sharpy snorts. “You’ve been ridiculously into him since you were rookies, Peeks. I’d given up on you ever figuring it out, but I’m pleasantly surprised.” 

Pat’s kind of lost for words. 

“I just – I didn’t figure it out until recently,” he offers lamely. 

Sharpy hmms again in response. “How did you even ‘figure it out’?” he emphasises.

Pat sighs, covers his face with one hand, knowing the never-ending amount of shit he’s about to receive if he tells the truth. He resolves himself to the fact and gives Sharpy a brief overview, culminating in his dick’s awakening at Jonny’s ass in the locker room and his rapidly failing methods of dealing with it. 

He huffs a breath of frustration and holds the phone away from his face as Sharpy laughs at him on the other end of the line. 

“It’s not funny!” he snaps. “I don’t know how to deal with it! He’s constantly half naked around me and I keep popping semis and he’s completely oblivious-”

Sharpy’s wheezing intensifies. 

Kaner hangs up on him and sulks. 

Sharpy calls him back five minutes later. 

Pat doesn’t say anything and Sharpy lets out a huff of air, humour still laced in with it. 

“Kaner, look – you’re my friend. I care about you and I want you to be happy,” he pauses for dramatic effect because he’s an _asshole._ “You should tell Jonny,” he finishes, which is just _wow no_ not happening. 

“That’s really not a good idea,” he insists. 

Sharpy sighs, a long suffering and fatherly sound that makes Pat miss his annoying ass intensely.

“Why not?” Sharpy asks. 

Because he’s _Jonny,_ Pat thinks. He’s frustrating and overly-serious and completely, unflinchingly supportive. He’s his captain and best friend and he doesn’t feel the same way. Pat would rather live a life of pining and getting off to the stolen glances of Jonny he gets in the locker room than have to face the soft rejection Jonny would offer him. 

“I know he doesn’t want me in that way and I don’t want to mess up our dynamic.” 

Sharpy pauses again, and Pat can hear him inhale quietly. “This really isn’t just about wanting to get your dick wet, is it?” he asks. 

And no, it’s really, _really,_ not.

“I’m really gone for him,” he says, voice soft and intense. 

Sharpy remains quiet, as if prompting Pat to say more. He rolls his eyes and continues. 

“I just - I want him,” he says lamely. “I can’t stop thinking about him and I can’t fucking breathe in the locker room, I’m so distracted by his-”

“I really, really do not need to hear you waxing poetic about Jonny’s ass,” Sharpy cuts in quickly. 

Pat’s silent for a moment. 

“It’s just so _big_ -” he breaks in, voice torn between misery and longing, unable to help himself. 

Sharpy lets out a strangled noise and hangs up on him. 

10 minutes, 2 missed calls, and several prayers to a higher power later, Pat gets a text from Sharpy and reluctantly opens it. 

_Just tell him Peeks. You might be surprised._

Pat sighs, throws his phone away, and covers his face with a pillow, miserably sighing his frustrations into the soft, feathered heap. 

*

Pat doesn’t mean to but he starts to avoid Jonny. 

He knows what he's feeling isn't Jonny's fault and he should just suck it up and deal with it, but being around Jonny's starting to hurt. Pat looks at him, sees his ridiculous body, the curve of his ass and thighs, the long lines of his tanned skin and the dark intensity of his eyes, and he wants.

Maybe it would be better if it was just physical, if all he wanted was to fuck Jonny and get it out of his system. But Pat imagines Jonny wrapped around him, his deadpan, serious voice whispering and whimpering into his ear, stupid mundane shit like making Jonny one of his gross green smoothies and holding his stupid fucking hand while they watch TV. 

Pat’s chest fills with emotion at the thought of it and he aches.

It's so intense he can hardly stand it, and he's sure it's there, right on his face, for the whole world and Jonny to see, and Pat can't deal with the sad and pitying creases Jonny’s face will offer him when he inevitably finds out.

So it's easier to make excuses, to duck out of Jonny's requests for lunch and beg off going to bars, citing some headache or other to avoid being around Jonny too long.

Pat resolutely ignores the pained stares Jonny sends him, and tries not to hate himself too much for being the worst friend ever and a disappointment to Jonny. 

Following that trend, with all things considered, Pat’s pretty impressed that he then manages to avoid Jonny for so long. More than two months pass, two months filled with aching and wanting and sidestepping all of Jonny’s attempts to spend one on one time with him. Pat’s steadily ignores all of the sad and confused looks thrown his way, forced his eyes to turn the other way and ignore Jonny’s soft responses of “oh, okay”, initially annoyed and now hopelessly despondent, when Pat declines any of his offers.

He knows he’s not being fair, that Jonny doesn’t deserve it, but the other option, forcing himself to be around Jonny and trying to hide his stupid, obvious feelings, seems impossible. 

He thinks he’s managing okay, that maybe eventually he’ll be able to deal with it, make peace with how overwhelmed with Jonny he feels, and move on and eventually stop hurting. 

But, life being life, and because the universe apparently hates him, it doesn’t work out that way. 

*

It’s a few hours before they’re due to hit the ice. 

Pat’s in the equipment room idly lifting and examining different sticks, mind floating in and out of his surroundings. He hears the door to his left open and shut, and his eyes flicker up as he half turns to see who’s walked in.

Jonny’s staring at him, mouth flat in a hard, rigid line, and his arms are folded across his chest as he stands in front of the door, effectively blocking Pat’s exit. 

Fuck. 

Pat reluctantly looks at him and sees his strong, tall body and the beautiful map of his face, still there everyday but missing from him like a limb in the past few months. He’s dealt a swift, sharp kick of longing, how much he misses Jonny triggered by his presence. 

“Kaner,” Jonny’s voice sounds strained and Patrick breaks from his prolonged staring. 

“Hey, Jonny,” he throws out, his attempt at sounding casual nowhere near successful.

Pat fumbles and places the sticks back against the wall before turning and facing Jonny. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocks back and forth on the spot, and all the while Jonny keeps watching him. 

“What’s going on, Kaner?” Jonny asks. His arms are bulging and thick, his face quiet and intent, and Pat loves him so much he feels like he could drown in it. 

Pat swallows. “Just preparing for the game, right?” He gestures with one hand uselessly at the equipment surrounding them, trying to smile but cutting it off, face going blank again at the furrowed crease of Jonny’s brow. 

“Stop with the bullshit,” Jonny snaps. “Why are you avoiding me? You’ve barely talked to me in weeks,” he pauses and swallows before looking intently into Pat’s eyes, gaze strong and demanding. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Pat feels a lump take up residence in his throat, and he goes to speak, but before he can Jonny asks, quiet and heartbroken, “Have I done something?” 

Pat’s horrified at the thought of Jonny blaming himself, and desperately tries to think of something to say, but his mind remains unhelpfully blank. 

“No! No, you haven’t done anything,” comes out instead, pathetic and lame sounding. He almost _wants_ to explain, because Jonny blaming himself and thinking there’s something wrong with him is so fucked up. But his voice cuts off and no more words come out, and Jonny stares at him unconvincingly. 

_Shit._

Patrick panics, hackles rising, and all he wants to do is be away from Jonny in that moment, to not have to explain or justify his actions and have the embarrassing truth of it come out. 

“I gotta-” he points vaguely to the door, hoping Jonny will let it be and allow him to escape the room with his head lowered and his pride still in place. 

Pat tries to duck around him, reaching his arm out for the door handle, hoping for a quick escape to avoid whatever conversation he can sense is about to take place, but Jonny’s quicker. He makes an impatient noise, grabs Patrick by the shoulders and pushes him against the door, bringing one arm back down to his side while the other stays on the door, caging him in with his palm flat next to Patrick’s head. 

Pat feels cornered, and despite a vague sense of panic he feels himself instantly reacting to Jonny’s proximity, and his heart picks up its pace, beating heavily against his chest. 

Jonny’s just staring at him, brows creased in confusion, eyes flickering all over Pat’s face as if the answers to his weird behaviour lie in its delicate lines. 

“What’s going on?” Jonny repeats, sounding increasingly frustrated. 

“Nothing, Jonny! I’ve just been going through some stuff,” he scrambles to say. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Jonny lets out a sarcastic puff of air. “I’m your best friend, dickface. Fucking bother me with it,” he demands. 

Pat stays quiet and chews his bottom lip, tongue flickering out and wetting the flesh in lieu of anything to say. 

“Patrick, please,” Jonny’s voice is helpless, anger gone and replaced with sullen confusion. 

Pat closes his eyes. 

He feels overwhelmed, and he doesn’t know what to tell Jonny, how to even begin explaining to him what’s been going on. He doesn’t know how to explain that his stupid, fucked up feelings aren’t Jonny’s fault, that it’s Pat’s own fault that he wants to fuck him and date him and probably marry his stupid ass one day. It’s not Jonny’s problem, and it’s not his responsibility to try and console Pat and tell him he doesn’t feel the same way. 

His face burns hot with humiliation at the thought of it. 

Jonny’s still standing too close, his ridiculous body right up against him, and his face is too earnest and _perfect_ to let Pat make sense of his thoughts. 

So Pat doesn’t explain. His mind shuts off and he hears himself let out a noise of frustration. Of their own volition he feels his arms reach forward, and watches almost in slow motion as his hands grab Jonny’s shirt and haul him even closer, before he goes up on his tip toes, brings his mouth close to Jonny’s and closes his lips against that perfect mouth. 

For two, whole glorious seconds Pat’s in heaven, and feels like he could cry at the simple, perfect press of Jonny against him. He wants to savour the heat of his mouth and devour it, never let it go and hold Jonny against him forever, never losing the quiet sense of _right_ that courses through Pat at the contact of their bodies. 

But Pat’s mind kicks into gear, and with a sudden rush he registers what he’s done. Blind panic seizes him, his hands freezing and his lips halting against Jonny’s, a stream of _shit shit shit shit_ running through his mind because _oh my god, why did he do that, what the fuck is wrong with him, Jonny’s never going to speak to him again_ , and he moves to pull back - 

Except –

Jonny lets out the hottest fucking sound Pat’s ever _heard._

Pat feels Jonny melt against him, his big hands coming up to grab at Pat’s face, angling his mouth so perfectly against his own. Pat makes a noise of pleasure and opens his mouth further, fucking his tongue in, feeling the slick, wet glide of Jonny’s against his own. Pat’s hands reach around and grip Jonny’s back before quickly gliding down and resting on the fat, thick swell of his ass, fingers spread wide and groping. 

Jonny’s panting and enthusiastic, and Pat wants to keep going, could die at the feeling of Jonny’s mouth against his and the satisfying grab of his ass filling his hands. He wants to keep wringing those noises out of Jonny, and fuck his mouth until they’re both panting with it, until he can feel the thick line of Jonny’s cock pressing against him and begging to be touched, mouths moving wet and filthy against each other before racing to tear the other’s clothes off. 

Instead, because he’s a fucking idiot, he pulls back, moves his mouth away from Jonny’s, and stares at him. 

They both look at each other blankly for a moment, and Pat’s feels such a weird mixture of confused and turned on that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“What the fuck?” he blurts out, voice coloured with shock. 

Jonny, his lips swollen and slick, makes an exasperated noise, his blank face quickly turning pissy looking before he throws his hands in the air. “ _Me_ what the fuck?! _You_ what the fuck!”

Pat stands there, face frozen and dumb looking, hands still gripping the fat swell of Jonny’s ass, seemingly unable to move. 

Jonny raises a sardonic eyebrow at him. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Pat’s silence gives him away.

“You’re an idiot.” Jonny deadpans, thumping his head down onto Pat’s shoulders, and yeah, okay, he’ll take that. 

“I just – what?” Pat thinks his ability to form coherent sentences has been kissed out of him, all intelligence gone in face of Jonny’s slick mouth. 

Jonny lets out a quiet groan and steps further back from Pat, effectively removing Kaner’s hands from his ass, and Pat unintentionally lets out a small noise of mourning. 

“I swear, Kaner, if you’ve been freaking out over finally getting a fucking clue when we could have been doing this the entire time, I’m going to be so fucking pissed, _ugh-_ ”

Jonny seems unable to help himself and moves back in towards Pat and presses him against the door, mouth finding his again in a greedy, wet kiss. 

Pat kisses back but his brain keeps rattling on at a million miles an hour. 

Okay, so Jonny apparently wants to fuck him. Which is – _insane_. Pat knows Jonny’s also into dudes, has high fived him and bragged about gross shit when he’s seen him go home with a guy, before his feelings got all fucked up and his heart developed a boner for Jonny’s everything. 

Pat wishes he could keep enjoying it, could just shut his brain off and enjoy the moment, but he leaves one last lingering kiss on Jonny’s lips and turns his head to the side instead. 

“Why are you stopping?” Jonny lets out an honest to god whine. 

Pat’s feels frustrated again, and blurts out before he can stop it, “Because I don’t just want sex, Jonny!” 

He expects Jonny to rear back, or be quiet in his shock and let Pat down, gently letting him know that what he feels only extends to sex, not the stupidly romantic thoughts Pat’s mind won’t let him get over.

Instead, Pat sees a small smile spread across the stretch of Jonny’s lips. His mouth opens slightly as he lets out a single one of his dumb little ‘heh’ laughs, before biting into his lower lip and pinning Pat with his intense, dark gaze. 

“I don’t just want sex either, Kaner,” Jonny confesses. 

Pat’s still so fucking confused. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want you to fuck me so hard I can barely walk afterwards,” Jonny smirks at him. “But it’s not the only thing I want.” 

And – oh. _Oh._

“Wait, really?” 

“Yes, really. You’re an idiot,” Jonny tells him fondly. 

Patrick thinks he might be having a heart attack. The confusion and anxiety must show on his face, because Jonny lets out a small sound and grabs his face between his big hands, forcing Pat’s face to look up towards his. 

“Pat. Patrick. Look at me,” Jonny demands. 

He looks up, unable to deny Jonny anything when he’s standing so close and focused on him so intensely. 

“I’ve been gone for you for years, Peeks. _Years._ ”

“Are you sure?” Pat hates how pathetically hopeful his voice sounds. 

Jonny nods fiercely before leaning in and giving Pat a slow, gentle kiss, contrasting so drastically from the previous frantic ones. Pat can feel all the emotion Jonny’s trying to convey, the press of his perfect mouth reiterating over and over again just how much Jonny wants him. 

Jonny's arms move to wrap around him, squeezing him tight and bringing their bodies closer together, and Pat’s brain kicks into gear. With the hard, flat planes of Jonny's body pressed up against him his desire to tear Jonny apart and _ruin_ him comes roaring back. With a bitten off moan the kiss turns biting and brutal, and Jonny whimpers in approval, dragging one of Pat’s hands, hanging uselessly down at his sides, and fitting it the shape of Jonny’s cock, hard and twitching in the material of his pants. 

“See what you do to me?” Jonny pants. 

“Fuck, baby,” Pat whimpers, eyes closing and relief and happiness rush through him so fiercely he feels like he could topple over. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Jonny whispers against his mouth.

Pat mournfully slides his hand away from Jonny’s cock, but then brings both of them to Jonny's back again, mapping out the thick slabs of muscle, so wide and thick. Jonny squirms happily against him as his hands move, their mouths meeting lazy and wet in perfect kisses. 

With a quiet sound of pleasure, his hands eventually reach Jonny's ass. Jonny's breath hitches as Pat slides the fingers of one hand under the band of his shorts, and finds him bare. Jonny's a huge thick line of heat pressed up against him, face pressed into Pat's neck, and Pat's finally reaching in and grabbing the fat flesh of Jonny’s ass between his hands, overflowing handfuls that make him moan into the open air, broken and panting.

“Fuck, Jonny, you have no idea,” he whispers. “No idea how much I want you, how much of a fucking tease you are. Ridiculous fucking body, oh my god.”

Pat peters off and moves his hands, dipping his fingers down and burying them between the fat masses of Jonny's cheeks. Pat drags them teasingly against Jonny's hole, delighting in the wet pants Jonny leaves against his neck.

Jonny's sweaty, always so sweaty and glistening, even here near his hole, and Pat wants to taste him, wants to lave his tongue up Jonny's crack, bury his face in his ass and never leave. He moves one finger, dry with only a hint of sweat, and presses it onto the tight furl of Jonny's hole.

Jonny crumples against him.

He’s so responsive, body overwhelmed and sensitive to all of Pat’s movements, and Kaner feels like he’s going to pass out, blood rushing to his cock and mind fogging over with _Jonny._

“God, you're so desperate for it, aren't you baby?” He breathes out, just pushing the tip of his finger inside, the tight heat of Jonny’s body opening up so lovely and hot for him. 

The pet name slips out again without meaning to, and Jonny moans, load and broken, hole clenching around the tip of Pat's finger.

Which, _huh._ “You like that? Me calling you baby?” Jonny whines against his neck again and eventually nods, seemingly embarrassed and reluctant. 

Pat pushes his finger further into Jonny’s hole, letting the ring of muscle contract and desperately try to suck him in deeper. He leans up and sucks Jonny’s lower lip into his mouth, before pulling back and panting across Jonny’s mouth. 

“You're so desperate for it, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, don't you baby?” Pat breathes the last question against Jonny’s lips, mouth moving so close to Jonny’s he can feel the raised skin of the scar across his top lip. Pat thrusts his finger deeper and kisses Jonny, shoving his tongue wet and filthy into his mouth. 

Pat thrusts his finger harsher into Jonny’s hole, feels the dry drag of it, and gently teases the tip of another against the rim. Jonny pulls back from Pat’s mouth with a wet, dirty noise and bites hard into the skin of Pat’s lower lip, big body trembling against him as he digs his fingers into Pat’s hips. 

Pat’s so hard he can barely stand it, and he thrusts his body closer to Jonny’s, panting into the open air. 

“I wanna mess you up and ruin you, baby,” he confesses. 

Jonny abruptly pushes himself away from Pat, dislodging his hands, and Pat's worried for a second, thinks he might have overstepped and misjudged just how into this Jonny is, until he looks at his face, sees his eyes blown wide with lust, his mouth open and panting. Jonny's overwhelmed, his dick tenting his shorts, and he's staring at Pat as if he wants to eat him alive.

“Can't do this here, Kaner,” Jonny scrubs at his face. “Won't stop, _god,_ I could come just from your voice.”

Pat moves forward, grabs Jonny and spins him around so he’s pressed up against the door. He cages that big body in and attaches his mouth to the tempting line of Jonny’s collarbone, mind completely fogged over and lost with Jonny’s words. 

“This is such bad timing,” he breathes, tongue lapping up the taste of Jonny’s skin, musky and sweaty and so _Jonny._

“Come home with me,” Jonny whispers, his hand reaching down between their bodies and cupping where Pat’s dick is hard and wanting. “After the game,” Jonny swallows and looks into Pat’s eyes, dark irises desperate and flickering. 

Pat moans and nods his head, licking a sweet little line up the thick stretch of Jonny’s neck. 

“Yeah,” he pants. “Yeah, okay.”

*

They win the game because _duh_ they’re fucking awesome, but for the first time in his life Pat couldn’t care less if they had lost. 

Jonny drives them home, and Pat can’t resist looking at him, seeing the nervous energy thrumming through Jonny, the slightly wet glisten of his skin he’s sure is mirrored on his own, both of them too impatient to dry off properly before pulling on clothes and racing to the car. 

The heat of the win radiates off both of them and Pat thinks to himself _I get to have this._

Pat feels keyed up, his cock pulsing steadily with hot rushes of blood, and he looks down at Jonny’s lap and sees the distinct bulge of his cock pressing up against his pants. His legs are splayed far apart in the driver’s seat, and Pat wants Jonny’s thighs wrapped around his head and suffocating him, nothing but the smell and taste and sweat of Jonny to breathe in. 

He closes his eyes and tells him as much, hands pressed against the thick bulge of his own cock. 

Jonny’s breathes out a quiet “fuck”, and Pat feels the car lurch forward, Jonny speeding to get them home quicker. 

He’s nearly mindless with it by the time they get to Jonny’s. 

They get into Jonny’s living room and before any words can be spoken Pat has Jonny slammed up against the wall. With one hand he angles Jonny’s mouth towards his and the other gropes at Jonny’s hip, mouth opening savagely and his tongue insistently fucking into Jonny’s mouth. 

Jonny lets out the sweetest little sounds, mouth moving hungrily against Pat’s, his hands scrambling and fingers digging into the muscle on top of Pat’s shoulders. For long, wet moments their mouths meet again and again, and Pat feels himself floating and swimming in the heat of it. His cock grinds forward into Jonny’s, and Pat feels the solid muscle of Jonny’s hard body press up against his. 

“Take your shirt off,” Jonny demands, moving his mouth down to bite at Pat’s neck, tongue swirling around a small mole. 

Pat leans back and obliges, shirt discarded and forgotten as Jonny removes his own. 

Pat looks at Jonny’s body and feels his mouth go dry. 

Jonny’s leaning back against the wall and smirking lazily at him, hand absently reaching down and undoing his pants before slipping it inside. Pat sees him grab his cock and give it a long, slow stroke. 

It’s the hottest thing Pat’s ever fucking _seen._

Jonny’s body is ridiculous, so built and _thick_ and made to be fucked, and Pat knows exactly what he wants, months of wanting and looking and not being able to touch finally coming to an end. 

“Go upstairs, Jonny. I want you naked on the bed. Now,” Pat’s voice comes out commanding and strong, and he’s worried for a moment Jonny will react against him and want to take charge instead. 

A flush rises on Jonny’s face, and to Pat’s complete surprise he listens, letting out a small, pleased hum. 

With a wicked lick of his lips he steps quickly out of his underwear. Pat sees Jonny’s cock for the first time, long and hard and beautiful, and it slaps up against his belly, leaving a slick shine of moisture against the toned slope of his stomach. Pat’s never wanted anything in his mouth more than he wants Jonny’s cock fucking his throat in that very moment. He pins Jonny with a look, raises one eyebrow slightly as if to say ‘go’ and Jonny complies by biting his lip and making his way towards the stairs. 

Pat stares after him and his cock _weeps_ at the sight of Jonny’s thick ass jiggling slightly and protruding obscenely as he climbs. 

He forces himself to follow at a sedate pace, enjoying the sight and giving Jonny some time to arrange himself on the bed. 

“Kaner,” is the quiet sound that greets him when he walks into the bedroom. Jonny’s spread out across the bed, big hand gripping his weeping cock and stroking it, legs splayed far apart so Pat can see the heavy weight of his balls hanging down, already full and tight. 

Patrick stands and watches, and the longer he stays quiet and intense in his stare the more a deep flush spreads up Jonny’s body, his cock twitching and reacting to being watched with so much intent.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Jonny,” he breathes out, finally stepping out of the rest of his clothes, engorged cock leaping free and standing proud. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jonny’s staring directly at Pat’s cock, mouth gaping and dark eyes glossy as it takes in the heft and length of it. 

Pat smirks at him, reaching down and hissing out a breath as he finally gives it an absent stroke. 

“Get up here, please,” Jonny pleads.

Shuffling forward on the thick carpet, Pat meets the edge of the bed, gaze still intent on Jonny’s, and climbs on top, sitting between the thick, obscene spread of Jonny’s legs. 

Pat sits back in his haunches and stares at Jonny, mouth watering at the sight of his body splayed out, his dick so hard and weeping it makes Pat want to suck him down and never let him go. 

So he does just that. Jonny’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open as Pat leans forward, gripping Jonny’s dick in one hand and guiding it towards the wet suction of his mouth. The head of Jonny’s cock glides across his tongue, and small salty bursts of liquid explode in his mouth. Pat groans at the taste, sound vibrating against Jonny’s cock head, and Jonny breathes out a quiet “shit”. 

Pat loves sucking cock, and knows he has the mouth for it, so he takes Jonny deeper, letting his plush lips glide along the shaft, picking up speed and making it wet and dirty and _amazing._

Jonny’s hands viciously grip into his hair, fisting the blonde curls between his fingers as he lets out soft mewls of pleasure. 

“Your hair is so stupid, oh my god,” Jonny complains around a moan. 

Pat thinks of protesting but his mouth is occupied, and the weight of Jonny’s hands in his hair, his cock heavy and twitching in his mouth, more than makes up for it. 

Pat looks up and Jonny’s smiling shakily down at him. Jonny moans softly and unclenches his fingers, gently smoothing them back against the unruly curls of Pat’s hair. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, licking his licks. “I’m stupidly into it.” 

Pat gives a vicious suck in response and Jonny’s head thumps back onto the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and panting. 

He takes Jonny’s cock into his mouth over and over again, letting the head tease into the tight clench of his throat. He moans around Jonny’s dick and thinks of choking himself on it, driving Jonny to the brink of insanity. He’d let Jonny come, spill just inside the hot, wet heat, let the come pool on his tongue and milk it out of him. Pat’s mouth waters and he _wants._ He wants Jonny’s come, wants to hold it in his mouth and move further down Jonny’s body, tongue at his hole and push the mouthful up into Jonny’s body, forcing his tight little hole to suck it up and make him wet and sticky and _filthy._

Jonny’s writhing against the bed, pushing his hips up and desperately trying to fuck his dick deeper into Pat’s mouth. Pat reluctantly pulls back, giving the head one last, lingering suck. 

“Wha..?” Jonny breaks off and opens his eyes, slightly wet from tears, and stares at Pat. 

“Want to fuck you, baby,” he explains. 

Jonny thumps his head back against the pillow and groans, low and needy, before nodding and sitting up, dragging Pat’s face towards his in a wet kiss. Pat fucks his tongue into Jonny’s mouth before drawing back and pulling Jonny’s top lip into his, sucking wetly and feeling the soft ridge of Jonny’s scar. Pat groans before letting go and resting back on his haunches, licking his lips and tasting Jonny. 

Jonny’s glistening and straining, his cock wet from Pat’s mouth and his eyes so dark and hungry that Pat feels flayed alive. 

“I want you face down, baby,” he says. 

Jonny bites his bottom lip and nods, and Pat’s overcome. Jonny’s so ready for it, so easy to take Pat’s orders, his need to be fucked and ruined overtaking any sense of objection. 

Jonny turns around and shuffles forward as Pat quietly despairs, and rests his head on his folded arms. He arches his back and sticks his ridiculous ass further in the air with a soft sigh. Pat looks down, sees the fat meat of Jonny’s ass staring at him, the long thick lines of his back stretching out above it, solid and tanned, and his dick twitches and lets out a sticky stream of precome. 

Jonny turns his head and smirks lazily over his shoulder. Pat’s sure his face is as dumbfounded and stunned as he feels. Jonny’s eyes flicker to his mouth, and his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. 

“Eat me out, Kaner,” Jonny breathes. 

Pat’s vision whites out momentarily, his skin already feeling tight and hot, overwhelmed by having Jonny spread out in front of him and panting for it. Jonny lets out an impatient sigh, so Pat pulls himself together, wills his dick not to lose it too early, and reaches his hands out to palm Jonny’s ass. He squeezes his hands into the thick meat of his cheeks, letting out a small moan at the flesh overflowing in his hands, unable to grab it all. 

“Oh, baby,” he sighs happily, biting into his bottom lip. 

Jonny’s getting more and more turned on, squirming and making hungry little noises. Pat takes his time – he digs his finger’s into Jonny’s ass, massaging and pulling at the flesh over and over, getting small, sweet glimpses of Jonny’s hole. 

He looks up and sees Jonny looking over his shoulder again, watching him. His pupils are blown wide, his mouth hanging open slightly as he stares at Pat’s lips again, red and slightly swollen from sucking Jonny’s cock. His eyes flicker up and they make eye contact, and Jonny lets out a sweet little moan. 

“Your mouth Kaner, it’s so _distracting,_ just want it on me, please-”

Pat smacks a hand down onto Jonny’s ass, just hard enough to sting, and Jonny faces forward again with a helpless moan. 

Finally, _finally,_ he pulls the spread of Jonny’s cheeks apart, holds them there, and leans forward. He breathes humid puffs of air across Jonny’s hole, sees it twitch and open slightly in response. He wants to reach down and squeeze his own cock to try and stave off the orgasm he can feel creeping up on him just from touching Jonny’s ass. Instead, Pat squeezes the round globes of Jonny’s fat cheeks again, pulls them apart even further, stretching Jonny, and hungrily stares at his hole. 

He leans in, licks his lips, and swallows against the gasp Jonny makes when the tip of his tongue teasingly swipes across his opening. He’s so fucking turned on, so strung out and into _this,_ into Jonny and his ridiculous, perfect ass, and he opens his mouth greedily and wetly drags his tongue soft and slow across Jonny’s hole. Jonny’s sweaty and musky, and the crack of his ass is sticky. Pat’s stomach tightens and his cock hardens impossibly more at the taste. He does it again, and now Jonny’s moaning, letting out small noises and slowly rocking his hips back into Pat’s face. 

Pat’s fucking obsessed. 

He opens his mouth wider, pushes his tongue in and fucks into Jonny, practically making out with his hole. He feels like he’s suffocating, Jonny’s fat cheeks pressing into his face and cutting off his air, everything but fucking Jonny’s greedy little hole and eagerly licking into him gone from his mind. 

Pat pulls back for a moment and breathes across Jonny’s opening. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so hot like this, so wet for me,” he pants, lips feeling swollen and thick from working over Jonny. “You taste so good, never want to stop.”

“Then don’t fucking stop, I swear-” Jonny’s slurred voice cuts off as Pat leans in, closes his plush lips around Jonny’s hole, and sucks _hard._ Jonny’s moans turn into guttural yells and Pat loves it, loves the wet, sticky feeling across his cheeks, his dick leaking and throbbing at the thick taste of Jonny on his tongue and the addictive drag of his mouth across his hole. Jonny’s out of control, frantically moving his hips, unsure what to do with hands, bringing one back and clenching it into Pat’s hair, the other fisting the sheets so hard they’re bound to tear. 

“Kaner, Kaner, oh my god, please-” Jonny pants, writhing back onto Pat’s face. “Please, more, I need more,” the last word is barely audible, caught up in a whimper as Pat moans into Jonny’s hole and ruthlessly fucks his tongue in and out. 

Pat leaves a last sucking kiss to Jonny’s hole and moves back, eyes flitting around the room in hopes of a bottle of lube magically procuring itself. Unable to find one he goes to move off the bed, the heat of his body moving away from Jonny’s, and Jonny makes a wounded sound of protest, looking at him with wide, blown eyes. 

“Just need some lube, baby,” he soothes, patting Jonny’s hip. 

Jonny nods jerkily in the direction of his bedside table. Pat takes the hint and opens the drawer, brings out a half empty bottle of a lube and a condom. Just looking at them, knowing he’s going to have his fingers inside Jonny, stretching out his hole in preparation for Pat’s cock, makes his dick weep and stand even taller. 

He reaches down and lets out a soft moan as he strokes his cock quickly, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. 

Jonny lets out a broken sound from his left, and Pat sees his eyes locked onto where he’s gripping his cock, Jonny’s mouth open and panting at the sight. 

He moves back behind Jonny, kneels between the wide spread of his legs where he’s up on all fours, and stares down at the fucking masterpiece of an ass laid out for him. His hands shake slightly as he uncaps the lube and coats his fingers. 

Pat brings two of his fingers down and circles the twitching, tight furl of Jonny’s hole. Jonny's wet even without the lube, sloppy and dripping already from where Pat's eaten him out. He circles his fingers for a few prolonged moments, taking pleasure in the broken sounds it draws from Jonny. With a gentle push he eases one finger in, nudges it all the way and moans to himself at the slick, tight heat of Jonny’s body. 

“You good, baby?” he pants out. 

Jonny’s eyes flutter closed, nodding as he lets out long, low moan in response. 

Pat pumps his finger in and out a few more times before adding another, then a third, drinking in the mewls Jonny makes. He curls his fingers on the way in, searching for the spot that’ll make Jonny scream. The thick swells of Jonny’s ass cheeks are mouth watering, framing Jonny’s little hole, so tight and red and glistening around the stretch of his fingers. 

It’s fucking beautiful.

“Fuck, if you could see yourself, Jonny. Perfect little hole,” he breathes. “So pretty for me, baby.”

Pat drags his fingers mercilessly against Jonny's prostate as he talks, fucking them in and out, addicted to how hot and wet and silky Jonny feels inside. He pumps in again and gently slips the tip of his pinkie finger alongside the three already stretching Jonny's hole taught.

Jonny howls, body pushing back onto the stretch of Pat’s fingers, his greedy hole pulling them further in. 

“Please, Pat,” he whines. “Want you in me.”

Pat takes his fingers out of Jonny slowly, already missing the tight heat of his body. Pat’s not being overly generous, he knows his dick’s big and Jonny has to be well stretched before he tries putting it in. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Jonny; he wants to make him feel good, drive him insane on the thick stretch of his cock.

He stretches his arm out, blindly trying to find the condom on the bed next to him, but unwilling to move his eyes from the sight of Jonny’s ass on display in front of him. 

“Don’t-” Jonny’s voice cuts off, and Pat looks up to see him burrowing his face into the side of his arm, seemingly embarrassed. 

Pat’s face creases in concern. 

“What, baby?” he prompts, soothing Jonny, running his hands up and down his sides, delighting in the small shivers that wrack through his body.

“Don’t use a condom,” Jonny mutters, turning his head to the side to catch Pat’s eyes. 

Pat’s cock _throbs._

This is a bad idea, _fuck,_ it’s a really bad idea. But Pat can’t say no to Jonny, and the thought of fucking him bare, coming inside Jonny, nearly has him shooting his load then and there. 

“Okay, I can-yeah, we can do that.”

Pat covers his cock in lube with a shaking hand, throat dry and clicking as he swallows, the familiar touch is his own hand a welcome relief. 

He moves closer to Jonny’s body, tucks himself right up against Jonny’s ass, and guides his cock into place. Just the heat of Jonny’s hole, wet and burning, feels like heaven against the head of his dick. He pushes in slowly, just the tip, and stops. 

He and Jonny let out a long, simultaneous moan. 

Pat’s never felt anything this good. Jonny’s hole clings to the thick head of Pat’s dick, clenching and unclenching, gently suckling at the tip. Jonny tries to slowly rock his hips back to get more inside him, but he’s overwhelmed, whimpering and squirming.

“Pat, please,” he begs.

Pat nods to himself, and moves his hands from their clenched grip on Jonny’s hips. He leans further over Jonny’s body and reaches his hands out to grip onto Jonny’s shoulders, fingers digging into thick muscle. With a forceful pull of his hands he tugs Jonny’s body backwards, forcing Jonny’s hole to open further onto the thickness of his cock. 

Pat’s eyes roll back into his head and Jonny lets out a long, wrecked moan. 

He keeps his hands on Jonny’s shoulders, keeps pushing and pulling him back onto his cock, spots dancing in front of vision as he watches the fat globes of Jonny’s ass jiggle with each movement. 

Jonny’s voice sounds wrecked, and he lets out a continuous litany of long, throaty moans. 

Jonny's ass cheeks drag against the base of Pat’s cock, the only part not inside Jonny, Tazer's ass too big to let him all the way in without his cheeks spread wide.

Pat hunches over Jonny and bites into the meat of his shoulders before he licks his way up Jonny's neck, and breathes into his ear, “Hold yourself open for me, baby, wanna fuck you deep.”

Jonny's swearing is muffled where he’s biting into his own bicep; neck and cheeks flushed a deep red. Jonny does as he's told and rests his head against the pillow, face pushed into the plush material, moans muffled as he pants and reaches his hands behind himself. He holds the fat spread of his cheeks open and Pat viciously grabs his hips and fucks himself into Jonny's hole.

“Fuck,” Pat whimpers; his dick buried so deep inside Jonny, so hot and enveloped, Jonny spread out and open just for him. He wants to do this forever, wants to fuck his cock into the tight heat of Jonny, keep him whimpering and whining on his cock, and fill him with his come over and over again.

Jonny lets out a porn star moan as Pat gives a particularly hard thrust, his whole body shoving forward with the force, balls swinging and slapping against Pat’s own. 

Pat smirks shakily, and slows his thrusting. He buries himself as far into Jonny as he can go, and just grinds himself there, nudging his dick right up against Jonny's prostate, and listens to him moan loudly. 

“You like that, huh? I'm gonna come in you, baby, come deep in your ass and then eat you out. Make you mine.” Jonny’s moaning as Pat speaks, wetness gathering around his eyes as he clenches down over and over again on Pat’s cock. “Or do you want me to come in you and plug it all up?” he continues. “Want me to leave you wet and full of my come, then fuck you again? You'd like that, wouldn't you, baby?'

Jonny's completely incoherent, words failing him, only able to offer desperate whimpering moans.

Pat's completely consumed by him, out of his mind and focused on nothing but making Jonny feel good, making him _his._ He starts thrusting harder, feels himself drawing closer to the edge, and moves one of his hands around Jonny's body to reach for his cock.

Jonny's cock is so wet, still sticky and covered from the slick of his mouth, so hard and straining and perfect in Pat's hand.

“You wanna come, baby? I wanna see you come, come on my dick.”

Jonny nods his head rapidly, fucking himself back onto Pat's cock more urgently. Pat fucks himself into Jonny harder, pumps his hand up and down Jonny's length at the same time, and keeps up a stream of dirty talk, telling Jonny how good he looks and how amazing his ass is, how lucky Pat is to see him like this, to fill him with his come and –

Jonny comes with a prolonged wail, his hole spasming and milking Pat's cock as long, hot streams shoot out of his dick onto Pat's hand.

Pat slows his thrusts as Jonny comes down, preparing to pull out, loving how strung out Jonny is but not wanting to overwork him, until Jonny reaches his hand back, grabs Pat's hip and forcefully pulls him forward, grunting as Pat's cock is buried back inside him.

“Keep going,” he pants, voice rough and scratched as if Pat's been fucking his throat. He moans at the thought, his breath catching in his chest at the feel of Jonny tight and hot around him again, muscles milking him occasionally from the after effects of his orgasm. “You promised me you'd come in me, Pat. I want it,” Jonny sounds completely fucked out and mindless with it. 

Pat groans deep in his chest and picks up the pace again, his movements quickly turning erratic as he pulls Jonny back to meet the thrusts of his dick over and over. He watches as Jonny’s gorgeous ass shakes with each slam of his cock inside. Jonny’s whining, small pitiful sounds in his throat that border on pained, and Pat loves it, wanting to tear Jonny apart and consume every part of him. 

“Your ass, Jonny, I love it. Built for me, all _mine,”_ he grunts, feeling his possessiveness for Jonny rise up. “You’re all mine, baby. Wanna fuck you and eat you out everyday.”

Jonny’s squirming and whining low in his throat, body lax and sensitive from his orgasm, but his greedy hole clings tightly to Pat’s cock. Jonny’s body is so hot and so wet with lube, his insides gripping Pat and milking him closer and closer to the edge. 

“C’mon, Kaner, come in me,” Jonny breathes, pushing back onto Pat’s cock. 

Pat grunts and lets out long, choked off moans, grabbing big fistfuls of Jonny’s ass cheeks and squeezing them, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. 

Just as he feels his orgasm coming he pulls out and ignores Jonny’s sound of protest. He jacks the length of his cock, leaving the swollen, dripping head pressed up against Jonny’s slick hole. He looks down, sees Jonny’s body desperately trying to grab the head of his dick and suck it back in, and stars dance in front of his eyes as he comes in long, dreamy pulses against Jonny’s hole. 

An eternity, or moments later, Pat comes back to himself, and feels Jonny squirming against him as he opens his eyes. Pat almost wants to cry at the sight that greets him, and licks his swollen lips at Jonny’s used hole clenching open and shut, glistening with Pat’s come. 

Jonny squirms and looks over his shoulder at Pat, pushing his body back so the sensitive head of Pat’s dick is pressed hard against Jonny’s hole. Pat can’t help but thrust his still hard cock forward, hands grappling out and gripping Jonny’s hips as the oversensitive head of his dick is enveloped in that tight, hot heat, his cock pushing the milky white load of his come up into Jonny’s body. 

“ _Fuck,_ baby,” Pat gasps out. 

He feels boneless and wrought out, his dick so sensitive and _perfect_ inside Jonny. 

“I told you I wanted your come in me,” Jonny sighs out, resting his head on his folded arms, seemingly happy to stay on his knees with his ass in the air, enjoying the tease of Pat’s cock in his fucked out hole. His eyes are closed and his head is turned to the side, breathing heavily with a blissed out look on his face. 

Pat pulls out of Jonny, pats at his hips and gently hums as Jonny whimpers. He runs his hands up from Jonny’s hips and along his back, stretching over him to gently caress his neck, slipping his fingers along Jonny’s lips and then back down the solid muscles of his shoulders. 

“So good, Jonny,” he tells him. “Made me feel so fucking good.” 

Jonny turns his head and smiles at Pat.

Pat bites his lip and smiles back, overwhelmed with what just happened, struck by the mess he’s made of Jonny, pure happiness and contentment coursing through his veins as he takes in the lax and satisfied spread of Jonny’s body. He travels his hands further down Jonny’s body, softly caressing across his ass, fingers ghosting down the crack before pulling Jonny’s cheeks apart and just staring.

Jonny whimpers and writhes against his hands, ass pushing up into the contact. 

Pat looks at Jonny’s twitching hole, feeling satisfied and possessive seeing it so red and puffy, still shiny with lube and spit. Pat’s come is buried inside him, fucked back into his wanting body, marking him and waiting, ready to be sucked out and used all over again. 

Pat’s cock gives a desperate twitch. 

He slides one of his hands away from its grasp on Jonny’s ass cheek and lets it wander to Jonny’s hole, gently probing the red rim. Jonny whines deep in his throat, gently shifting his hips. Pat smiles, so in love with how needy Jonny is for it, even now. He slides two fingers in with no resistance, feels the soft velvety heat of Jonny insides, and listens as Jonny lets out a low simpering sound. He feels the hot wetness of it, pushes his fingers deeper and feels his own come and his breath catches, mouth popping open, turned on and wanting to wreck Jonny all over again. 

Johnny’s keeps whining, low and husky in his throat, and Pat fucks his fingers in a bit harder and Jonny pleads out, “I can’t, Pat, it’s too much.”

Pat slows the movement of his hand, and gently caresses the cheek his other handing is still grasping. 

“Okay, baby.” 

Pat removes his fingers, shuffles back a little, and leans his face in near Jonny’s ass. Jonny makes a small questioning noise that’s cut off into a soft moan as Pat breathes over his opening and laves his tongue gently over Jonny’s hole, half in apology and half to hear the broken sounds Jonny lets out. He does it a few more times, soft kitten licks soothing the abused rim, then leans to the side and collapses, face near Jonny’s hip, right hand gently caressing the swell of Jonny’s ass. 

They need to rest, and Jonny’s hole is tender and raw. _Later,_ Pat thinks. Later he’ll lay Jonny out, pin his hips down and eat him out all over again, suck his come from Jonny’s ass and get him dripping and hard. 

For now he breathes out heavily, eyes closing, content to pillow his face into the generous swell of Jonny’s body. 

“You’re the best,” he sighs happily, burying his face into the soft flesh of Jonny’s ass cheek. He turns his head slightly and places a small sucking kiss there, just for the hell of it. 

“Are you talking to my ass, Kaner?” Jonny’s voice is deadpan and exhausted, muffled where he’s buried his face into a pillow. 

“No,” he lies. 

Jonny weakly smacks at Pat’s face before flopping his arm down, limbs spread, still trying to make his breathing go back to normal. Pat lurches upwards, drags himself up next to Jonny’s body, gives his ass one final little pat, and collapses half across Jonny’s back, burying his face in the curve of his neck. 

Jonny lets out a pleased hum. 

Pat smiles, sucks another small kiss into the skin he can reach, and wraps his arms around Jonny.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. Jonny's summer body has ruined my life.
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://puckministry.tumblr.com) and despair over these idiots with me.


End file.
